


Whumptober 2019 ||Lilix Love||

by Lilix_Love



Category: X-Men - All Media Types, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Angst, F/M, Gang AU, Gen, Mutant, Mutant Powers, Original Character(s), Whump, Whumptober, Whumptober 2019, btsarmy, kpop, oneshots, whumptober 2k19
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2020-11-26 12:00:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20929868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilix_Love/pseuds/Lilix_Love
Summary: Whumpy one-shots for a bunch of my books :) I might end up posting after October as well if I don't finish in time (and knowing me, I probably won't). This is my first time posting on Archive of Our Own. I had a friend suggest it to me, so I'm giving it a try. Follow my wattpad @LilixLove and my instagram @lilixloveswriting





	1. Chapter 1

**AN: So I combined day 1 and day 2 together because it was easier and rules are for suckers**

**I lowkey did not want to post this cuz it sucks and it doesn't make any sense without any context but the point of Whumptober is to practice and get better, so it's okay if it sucks. The MC is Leanne, an oc in a book that I'm working on, so don't worry that you don't know her. The plot is a mess, so I'm not really gonna share it. All you really need to know is that Leanne is a mutant from the X-Men timeline who has yet learned to control her powers. Peter is Peter Parker from the MCU. Leanne ended up crossing dimensions/timelines (against her will, mind you) and is now in Peter's universe. So again, this sucks, but the plot itself is a mess, so I kind of expected it to. Idk how many people will read this, but I hope whoever does enjoys! Thanks <3**

Leanne sat on the cold cement, hands planted firmly on the ground. She mindlessly balled them into fists, regretting the action immediately as pain splintered throughout her palms. She quickly pulled them in front of her and winced as she saw the damage. Her palms were destroyed, scraped up mercilessly and she couldn't stop them from trembling as she turned them over. She looked up and stared straight ahead, gasping quietly at the damage she'd done. A black smudge shown prominently on the metal casing of the pipes. They were bent inward quite dramatically, a single line of gas streaming out of one of them.

"Ohhh, fuck." This was not good.

She pushed herself to her feet, dashed back the way she came and bolted up the stairs. She tried to turn the handle to the door of the basement. It wouldn't budge.

"What? No!" She jiggled it harder, but the knob still wouldn't turn. "Fuck! No, please! Come on! No, no!"

By now she was in a full-fledged panic. She pulled her phone out of her back pocket and nearly screamed when she saw the huge crack in the screen. It wouldn't turn on.

"Shit!" She threw it down and it tumbled down the stairs.

Leanne was locked in, and she needed someone else to unlock it from the other side. Her phone was broken, so she couldn't call Peter. She couldn't contact Jean, there was no way she'd hear her in whatever Godforsaken timeline Leanne was in now. She was going to die, alone, in the basement of a school she didn't even go to. And she was going to take hundreds of people down with her.

She began slamming her shoulder into the door like she'd seen done in the movies. Her efforts achieved nothing besides a bruised shoulder and a somehow more panicked Leanne. By now she was beginning to smell the gas and she whimpered at how quickly such a small stream could fill up an entire basement. She pulled her shirt over her nose and started slapping the door, hoping someone, anyone, would hear her.

Someone must have been listening because almost a minute after she had started, the door handle turned. The door swung open to reveal none other than Peter Parker with a very confused look on his face.

"Leanne?" He furrowed his brows and Leanne rushed through the door, nearly taking Peter out if he hadn't moved quickly enough. "What are you doing down here?"

Leanne shut the door and took off the sweater she was wearing, stuffing it into the cracks underneath. "We have to go."

"Go where? What's-"

"Shut up, Peter! There is no time for questions, okay? I need you to evacuate the school!"

"Wha- what?! For what?!"

Leanne screamed inside her head. Were all Peters this clueless and annoying?

"I busted a pipe and there's gas and it's gonna leak out eventually and reach the lab and the whole school is gonna blow up and everyone inside is gonna die if they don't get out and we don't have much time." She blabbered, waving her arms around. "You need to get everyone out."

"I...I can't do that-"

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU CAN'T DO THAT?! I THOUGHT YOU WERE A REVENGER!"

"An Avenger-"

"SHUT UP PETER!" She screamed, and she knew if she couldn't get her emotions under control she might do more damage, but it was becoming harder to think clearly. "The point is you're Spiderman! They'll listen to you. I mean, fuck, pull the fire alarm if you have to! It's not that hard!"

Before Peter could answer her, Leanne ran up the stairs to the second floor. Her chemistry class was doing a lab today, one with an open flame. She had to turn it off. After what seemed like years of running, she finally reached her classroom and practically burst through the door.

"Oh. How nice of you to join us-" Her teacher started.

"Stop the lab! Stop everything! Turn everything off, you all need to get out."

"Excuse me?" The teacher said and the students started whispering to one another.

"It's not safe! There was a," She paused momentarily, trying to think of what to say. "A bomb threat! And we all have to get out of the building."

Audible 'what's and 'oh my god's could be heard from the students, who began standing up and grabbing their things.

"Sit down!" The teacher demanded. "I didn't hear any announcements or get any emails, we're fine."

Leanne opened her mouth to argue, but she was drowned out by the ringing of the fire alarm.

Peter.

She had seen people leaving as she rushed to her classroom, so she knew that Peter had gotten at least some people to listen. She just hoped they'd listen to the fire alarm better than the star of the Academic Decathlon team.

The students screamed as the water hit their skin and they all scurried out of their seats.

"Go, go! Get out, come on!" Leanne waved them out of the door, darting her eyes around the classroom. Her teacher looked irritated, but she really couldn't care less.

A cough sprung up in her lungs, which she thought nothing of at first until her nose began to sting. Her eyes widened and found a vent in the top corner of the classroom. Then she looked at the table. The burners were still going.

_"Shit."_

There were still people in the room, and still people only halfway down the hall. They were all going to die. They were all going to die and it was going to be Leanne's fault.

"GET OUT!" Leanne shouted and felt a surge of energy wave through her body.

_"It's any kind of energy, really. Including your adrenaline. If it spikes, even just a little bit, like it did earlier, you could isolate it and redirect it through arms, to your hands, creating a focused blast."_

She raised her hand up and aimed it at the burners.

"Here goes nothing." She closed her eyes.

_ **BOOM** _


	2. Day 3 - Delirium

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Peter Maximoff stays up for 46 hours straight, living only off of two packs of Monster's energy drinks.

Peter tossed his fifth energy drink in the trash can, barely making it in the basket. He swiftly popped open another, taking a swig. He knew his stomach would hate him for it later, but it was hard staying up for 48 hours straight and the caffeine helped him to focus. And god, did Peter need to focus. 

His grades were slipping. Badly. The professor had informed him that if he couldn’t get them up in two weeks, then they’d have to call his mom. Peter, being Peter, put everything off, and now it was 2 am on the Friday of the second week and he was panicking. He locked himself up in his room for the past two days, only emerging to sneak Jubilee’s energy drinks from the fridge. Now he was staring down at a blank piece of paper, trying to figure out how to write two five-paragraph essays before 8 am. 

He looked at the clock. ‘2:03 am.’

A groan escaped his lips. Time seemed to move so slowly when he was doing school work, and yet somehow he still didn’t have enough. Peter picked up his pencil, fully intending to write at least a few words, but as soon as the lead touched the paper, his letters looked though they’d been through an earthquake. The speed at which his hands were shaking made him feel as though he was vibrating. It made him feel sick, but he took another sip. He had to get his grades up, no matter what. Or at least convince the professor not to call his mother. She had enough to worry about, not including Peter’s grades.

Peter’s mom was always concerned for him, whether or not he was eating enough, if he was getting enough sunlight, the state of his mental health. She dedicated her entire life to Peter and his sister, and Peter did not make it easy for her. He knew this, and he didn’t want to make her worry about him now that he was out of the house. It wasn’t fair.

But concentrating was so. Hard. The surplus of caffeine in his system was the only thing keeping him from getting distracted, but that didn’t mean he was thinking clearly. He was tired, oh so tired, and it didn’t help that he ran out of his meds two days ago. His eyes felt like they would slam shut if he didn’t hold them wide open all the time. Peter bounced his leg to keep himself awake, this, in turn, caused pretty much everything in his room to vibrate and he wouldn’t be surprised if he burned a hole in the carpet. He just hoped he wasn’t bothering any of the other students.

Peter lifted his pencil from the paper. ‘According to’.

Lovely.

He looked at the clock again. ‘2:14 am’

Peter sighed loudly, throwing his pencil down. Maybe he just needed something to eat. Yeah, that was it.

He stood up quickly, and the entire world spun. The ground tilted under his feet and he stumbled back into his chair. He briefly saw the ceiling fan spinning and wondered when he had turned it on before his head hit the floor. 

When Peter came to, he had no idea where he was. The room was bright, the glow searing pain into his eyes. He couldn’t move a muscle, feeling as though he was chained down by bricks, but at the same time, he felt light, like he was floating. 

A feminine voice rang in his ears. It was soft and gentle, a bit concerned, maybe. His eyes rolled around in his skull, searching for the owner.

“Wanda…” Peter mumbled, his eyelids fluttering rapidly. The muttering that he had been hearing stopped, replaced by soft footsteps. 

“Good morning, Peter.” A different voice said. Peter recognized it, but he just couldn’t place who it was. Where was he?

Peter didn’t respond, unable to make his mouth move.

“Can you hear me?” The voice asked, and Peter twitched his nose, eyes still shut.

The next thing he knew, he was being blinded by what he just assumed was the sun; he couldn’t think of anything else that would be that bright.

“Your pupils are responding well.” Peter heard clattering before the voice spoke again. “I can’t tell if you’re cognitively responsive or not, but on the off chance that you are, your dopamine levels are extremely low.” Something cold ran over his head and he shivered, “No fever, that’s good.”

He continued to talk, but Peter couldn’t comprehend any of it. He still didn’t know who was talking to him, or where he was, and he felt as though he was spinning on a carousel. So in other words, he felt sick.

“Stop…” He mumbled out.

The voice laughed a little. “Stop talking? You sound like Charles. Who I should call, by the way. Maybe he can do something about this state that you’re in.” 

Peter pinched his eyebrows. He felt as though his consciousness was floating around in his mind, unable to ground itself to anything.

“Where…?” He tried to form a sentence, but nothing was working.

“Where is what, Peter?”

This was all too surreal. The floaty feeling, the blinding light, the disembodied voice. He must be dead. He must have overdosed on caffeine or something. How stupid he was...this would kill his mother. “Where...Wanda…”

“I’ll be right back, alright?” The voice said, slowly fading away.

Flying, spinning, tumbling through empty space. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t call for help. It was dark and cold, just like how it felt before. Except for this time, he was alone. All alone, all alone.

Peter slowly opened his eyes and stared straight ahead. It was different this time, not so bright, just fuzzy. He rolled his eyes, desperately trying to get them to focus. 

“I’ve got something.” More voices. It wasn’t so echoey anymore, just British.

British? The professor!

Peter blinked rapidly and rolled onto his side, still unseeing. He couldn’t die. He couldn’t do that to his mother.

“Die…” He breathed shutting his eyes closed again, squeezing them this time. “Don’t…! Can’t…”

“Peter.” 

No. The ringing. It was like he was in a tunnel again. He had to get out. He had to. He just...needed something. Something to ground himself. Something to pull him back.

“Peter!”

Peter inhaled sharply, his eyes flew open and his body went shooting upwards. He screamed and shook, his eyes still unfocused, but he was here. He could feel.

“There you are, there you are.” The voice came again, much clearer this time. Peter looked to his right to see the professor, leaning forward in his chair with one hand squeezing his own, the other on Peter’s back. Human contact seemed to be enough to bring him back. “You’re alright. Just breathe.”

His body shook uncontrollably, and he balled his fists, just to make sure he was really there.

“Where...where am I?” He panted as his eyes finally began to focus properly.

“You’re in the nurse’s office.” The professor said, rubbing his hand reassuringly on Peter’s back.

Hank grumbled and pulled up to them. “I’m not a nurse.” He said, shining a small light into Peter’s eyes. The boy jerked away, lifting a hand up to shield them. 

“Well, you’re the closest thing we’ve got.” The professor said.

“That still doesn’t make me one. I’m a doctor of biological sciences, Charles. I don’t specialize in medical-”

“Hank.”

“Yes?”

“Stop talking.”

Hank sighed and unwrapped the velcro that he had strapped around Peter’s arm. “Your blood pressure is spiked. I’m assuming it’s from all the energy drinks.”

“Uh…” Peter blinked, flashing back to all of the Monsters lying in his trash can. “I only had like...a couple.”

“Of course,” Hank said, jotting down something on a piece of paper. “That must be why there was so much caffeine detected in your blood samples.” 

“You...took blood samples?” Peter asked. “Am I dying?”

Hank chuckled a bit. “No, you’re not dying. Sleep-deprived and high on sugars, but not dying.” He turned back to Peter. “When was the last time you slept?”

Peter furrowed his eyebrows. “Uh...Wednesday?” He guessed, then nodded. “Morning.”

“Jesus Christ.” The professor coughed.

“What happened?” Peter asked.

“Jubilee found you passed out on the floor,” Hank explained. “She said you weren’t waking up, so she dragged you here.”

“You were delirious.” The professor added. “Hank said you were talking in your sleep.”

“You kept mentioning a ‘Wanda.’ Who is that?” Hank asked.

Everything was still a bit blurred, but Peter heard that question quite clearly. His heart, which had been pounding violently suddenly seemed to stop and the sickening taste of bile climbed up his throat. “What?”

“You said-”

“No one.” Peter interrupted, swallowing thickly. “I don’t know.” His voice shook and he looked away, praying that the professor wouldn’t try to dive into his subconscious. “Did you call my mom?”

“Not yet-”

“Don’t,” Peter said, earning a surprised look from both of his elders. “Please. I don’t want to worry her.” He added, fiddling with his thumbs.

The professor looked at Hank who gave him a little nod and ended up wheeling out of the room before the doctor turned back to Peter.

“Well, how are you feeling now?”

“Fine,” Peter answered quickly. “Just tired.”

“That’s to be expected, considering you haven’t slept properly in the last 50 hours. Your dopamine levels are also dramatically low. Any idea why?” Hank asked and Peter blinked.

“I...don’t even know what that is.”

“It’s a neurotransmitter or a chemical in your brain which sends signals to the nerve cells in your muscles.” Peter scrunched up his face in confusion and Hank sighed. “It’s a large component of your motor function, it basically makes sure you can move properly.”

“Are you sure you’re not a nurse?” Peter asked and Hanks placed his fingers on his temples.

“Peter.”

“Yeah, no. I don’t know why they’d be low.” He shrugged.

"Nothing?" Hanks rested his elbows on his knees. "This is a safe space, Peter. You won't get into any trouble."

Peter raised an eyebrow. "Are you asking if I do drugs?"

Hank pressed his lips together. "...Do you?"

"No." He smirked slightly. "I don't."

Hank nodded, satisfied. 

"Well," Peter placed a hand on his chin and Hank snapped his head back in his direction. "I take Adderall. It's a prescription."

"Ah. And when was the last time you took it?"

"Uhhh, I don't know. Like the other day?"

"What day?" Hank asked.

"Ugh, um…" Peter thought back in the week. His brain was mush and all he could remember was the studying that he had done. "T-Tuesday?"

Hank nodded. "That would do it." He picked up his pencil and began to scribble something down. "Any other withdrawal symptoms?"

"I dunno. What are the symptoms?"

"Fatigue, nausea, depression, excessive blinking, etc." Hank listed off a few and Peter looked to the side. 

"Uhh…anxiety? But that's sorta normal."

"Okay," He clicked his pen. "I'll have to call your mother to order more for you. You can't quit cold turkey, like that, it's not healthy."

Peter rolled his eyes. "I'm not an addict or anything."

"Doesn't matter," Hank said, placing his clipboard down. "Your body is used to having it in your system, that's why your brain isn't producing enough dopamine." He tilted his head. "Also because you haven't slept since Wednesday."

"Yeah, yeah." Peter hung his head.

"You'll be fine, you just need to sleep. And continue to take your Adderall."

Peter groaned. "But…I have to finish my homework or else-"

"I'm sure we can figure something out." Hank gave him a small smile. "Get some sleep, Peter. And don't come back to class for at least 24 hours." 

Peter sighed and stood up, making his way toward the door. 

"Oh and," Hank started, "Watch out for Jubilee. She was going to kick your butt for stealing her drinks before she saw your lifeless body."

Peter laughed and shook his head. "Roger that."


End file.
